Oh, Betsey Prig, what wickedness you've showed this night, but never shall you darken Sairey's doors agen, you twining serpiant!'
`You were always so kind to her, too!' said John, consolingly.
`That's the cutting part. That's where it hurts me, Mr. Westlock,' Mrs.
Gamp replied; holding out her glass unconsciously, while Martin filled it.
`Chosen to help you with Mr. Lewsome!' said John. `Chosen to help you with Mr. Chuffey!'
`Chose once, but chose no more,' cried Mrs. Gamp. `No pardnership with Betsey Prig agen, sir!'
`No, no,' said John. `That would never do.'
`I don't know as it ever would have done, sir,' Mrs. Gamp replied, with a solemnity peculiar to a certain stage of intoxication. `Now that the marks,' by which Mrs. Gamp is supposed to have meant mask, `is off that creetur's face, I do not think it ever would have done. There are reagions in families for keeping things a secret, Mr. Westlock, and havin' only them about you as you knows you can repoge in. Who could repoge in Betsey Prig, arter her words of Mrs. Harris, setting in that chair afore my eyes!'
`Quite true,' said John; `quite. I hope you have time to find another assistant, Mrs. Gamp?'
Between her indignation and the teapot, her powers of comprehending what was said to her began to fail. She looked at John with tearful eyes, and murmuring the well-remembered name which Mrs Prig had challenged -- as if it were a talisman against all earthly sorrows -- seemed to wander in her mind.
`I hope,' repeated John, `that you have time to find another assistant?'
`Which short it is, indeed,' cried Mrs. Gamp, turning up her languid eyes, and clasping Mr. Westlock's wrist with matronly affection. `To-morrow evenin', sir, I waits upon his friends. Mr. Chuzzlewit apinted it from nine to ten.'
`From nine to ten,' said John, with a significant glance at Martin.
`and then Mr. Chuffey retires into safe keeping, does he?'
`He needs to be kep safe, I do assure you,' Mrs. Gamp replied with a mysterious air. `Other people besides me has had a happy deliverance from Betsey Prig. I little know'd that woman. She'd have let it out!'
`Let him out, you mean,' said John.
`Do I!' retorted Mrs. Gamp. `Oh!'
The severely ironical character of this reply was strengthened by a very slow nod, and a still slower drawing down of the corners of Mrs. Gamp's mouth. She added with extreme stateliness of manner after indulging in a short doze:
`But I am a-keepin' of you gentlemen, and time is precious.'
Mingling with that delusion of the teapot which inspired her with the belief that they wanted her to go somewhere immediately a shrewd avoidance of any further reference to the topics into which she had lately strayed, Mrs. Gamp rose; and putting away the teapot in its accustomed place, and locking the cupboard with much gravity proceeded to attire herself for a professional visit.
This preparation was easily made, as it required nothing more than the snuffy black bonnet, the snuffy black shawl, the pattens and the indispensable umbrella, without which neither a lying-in nor a laying-out could by any possibility be attempted. When Mrs. Gamp had invested herself with these appendages she returned to her chair, and sitting down again, declared herself quite ready.
`It's a appiness to know as one can benefit the poor sweet creetur.' she observed, `I'm sure. It isn't all as can. The torters Betsey Prig inflicts is frightful!'
Closing her eyes as she made this remark, in the acuteness of her commiseration for Betsey's patients, she forgot to open them again until she dropped a patten. Her nap was also broken at intervals like the fabled slumbers of Friar Bacon, by the dropping of the other patten, and of the umbrella.
But when she had got rid of those incumbrances, her sleep was peaceful.
The two young men looked at each other, ludicrously enough; and Martin, stifling his disposition to laugh, whispered in John Westlock's ear, `What shall we do now?'
`Stay here,' he replied.
Mrs, Gamp was heard to murmur `Mrs. Harris' in her sleep.
`Rely upon it,' whispered John, looking cautiously towards her, `that you shall question this old clerk, though you go as Mrs. Harris herself.
We know quite enough to carry her our own way now, at all events; thanks to this quarrel, which confirms the old saying that when rogues fall out, honest people get what they want. Let Jonas Chuzzlewit look to himself; and let her sleep as long as she likes. We shall gain our end in good time.'
